


Focus

by Chimeric (DiaMori)



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Sex, And kinky, Cum on Command, Flug just wants to work in peace, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, Purely Gratuitous, Sounding, Tentacle Sex, Urethral Play, or does he?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-19 16:30:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13708293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiaMori/pseuds/Chimeric
Summary: Chemistry is a dangerous thing for Doctor Flug to practice at Black Hat Inc. Not because the compounds he creates can often kill him - though there is that too. No. Chemistry became dangerous when Black Hat decided he rather enjoyed checking up on him in the middle of his work.While also taking the opportunity to test Flug's focus and dedication to life in increasingly ... physical ways.





	Focus

**Author's Note:**

> Purely gratuitous. Purely for fun. Poor Flug. Anyway, if this is your thing, then I hope you enjoy!

Prior to his employment at Black Hat Inc., chemistry had been a beloved discipline to Doctor Flug. He enjoyed the meticulous nature of the science, and the magic which revealed itself after extensive care and patience. There was a sort of serenity which could be found in the process. Calm which often harmonized with the chemical reaction.

After joining Black Hat Inc.? It was another story entirely.

Now when Black Hat told Flug he wanted some sort of deadly chemical compound or illicit drug, or even an innocent cup of coffee, Flug’s heart pounded, and not in the good way. His hands would sweat, making his gloves tacky and uncomfortable despite the dusting powder he coated the insides with. His legs would tremble. His knees knocked.

Black Hat would grin.

The first time he’d performed chemistry for Black Hat, the demon wanted nothing more than an aerosol can of fast-acting neurotoxin. Buyers could spray it in the faces of their enemies as an add-on product to the discreet and fashionable gas-mask Flug had built prior (which as it was, only filtered the neurotoxin for a month before the seal gave out and needed to be replaced with one of Black Hat Inc.’s replacement seals, which were more expensive than the gas-mask itself. Not that that was his problem, of course).

Black Hat had asked if Flug could do it, and if Flug wasn’t the coward he was, he’d have laughed in the monster’s face. Airborne neurotoxin? Easy-peasy. A baby in a lab could do it. The request made Flug wonder if the eldritch horror had even glanced at his curriculum vitae at all. He’d thought his chemical prowess was clear enough when he applied.

He’d been given five days to complete the project. Flug had expected to be done in two, and had eagerly looked forward to not only proving how capable he was, but also proving he deserved some sort of raise for the work he could provide — given Black Hat had brought him on at a meager rate, pending the quality of Flug’s future work.

To Flug’s dismay, he’d barely managed to meet the deadline, and the attempt had almost killed him on three separate occasions. He’d considered quitting on the spot, or insisting he never work on another chemical project. The threat to his life had been too great.

Then Black Hat had given him a sizable bonus and an unsupervised trip to Bermuda where Flug had been loaned out to work on an elaborate and lethal mechanical maze a client had commissioned. In the wake of the unexpected reward, Flug’s concerns fell to the wayside. The … distractions which had set him back so critically in his chemical work, they wouldn’t happen again. Surely it was a one-time thing. To test him.

It wasn’t. It happened _every time_ he was given a chemistry-based project.

It didn’t matter what Doctor Flug did to keep the _distraction_ out – or at least to proactively prevent it. He’d set up cameras in the halls outside his lab. Black Hat never appeared in any of them and somehow managed to get in. He’d locked – and then _welded_ – the door closed, and like a ghost, Black Hat was right next to him, grinning that evil grin which told Flug he might die today if his mind wasn’t entirely in the game.

And it didn’t help that Black Hat seemed to take a particular pleasure in the many innovative ways which he could test Flug’s concentration and control. His focus.

The sad thing was, Flug knew conditioning when he saw it. Knew it better when it was being applied to himself. But there was something to be said about the power of physical pleasure as a reward, and how it could be used to control someone.

He was certainly no exception, despite his genius-level intelligence.

And that was why Flug wasn’t at all surprised when, as he studied the flask in his hand and waited for the chemical reaction to take place — a chemical reaction which could destroy the entire mansion if he didn’t handle it properly — Black Hat appeared.

Fear and desire curled low in his belly, a heady mix which made him wonder just how much of an adrenaline junkie he really was, at heart.

Black Hat’s heat curled around Flug’s body, and Flug struggled not to shudder as a wicked hand began to stroke him through his pants. Flug was already hard, and it was getting difficult to focus on the deadly reaction in his hands.

But if he didn’t, if he wasn’t perfectly careful, he would botch this delicate operation and die.

“S-sir,” Flug stammered, sweat beading down his back as he struggled to stifle a moan as those fingers dropped lower, grew shameless and bold as they curled and fondled his covered balls. “Please—!”

“This looks dangerous, Doctor Flug,” Black Hat murmured into his ear, a devious grin in his voice. “You should concentrate. I wouldn’t want to search for a new scientist to replace you. Despite your faults you are,” Black Hat cupped him sensually before his hand morphed into tentacles which tore through Flug’s pants and underwear to curl around his swollen cock. Flug’s hand shook violently, and his eyes rolled as he fought to control his pleasure. Black Hat chuckled with satisfaction as he continued. “Dependable, at times. It would be a pity to look for new help.”

Flug gave a shuddering groan as his world shrunk to what was in his hands, and what was in Black Hat’s tentacles – and one was quickly gaining ground over the other. A keening sound filled the air as another slick tentacle slid sensually along the line of Flug’s taint, nudging and swirling around his hole with every motion. With it there teasing him, and the tentacles wrapped and swirling around his dick as Black Hat held his hips against the table with the hot blaze of his body, pleasure flooded his senses.

Behind him, Black Hat hummed in appreciation. His sharp teeth scraped across Flug’s neck just below his bag as he spoke with a soft, teasing tone.

“Is it supposed to be glowing like that?”

Alarm cut through the haze of Flug’s desire as his eyes snapped open. To his horror, the chemicals _were_ beginning to shine a sick neon yellow moments before deepening into a deep, terrifying crimson richer than blood, and emitting light. Black Hat’s hum of appreciation turned interested and pleased.

“I like it. What’ll it do?”

Flug didn’t answer, not when what raced through his mind were the dropping percentages of success and the rising certainty that Black Hat had truly killed him this time. In a flurry of action, he reached for flasks and chemicals, tubes of reagents and formulas he _prayed_ would placate the fatal red back down into the less hazardous yellow.

It wasn’t easy. Especially when Black Hat tugged his legs wider apart and all but shoved Flug’s torso forward so his ass was presented for whatever the demon had in mind. A bit of the chemical agent slipped out and the workbench hissed and sputtered as the glowing red ate through it, leaving a smoking hole and a cancer-inducing smell.

“Sir!” Flug whined in dismay before gasping and shuddering as a wave of pleasure built low in his belly again when those tentacles below began to pump him. Engulf him. His heart jumped double-time when he felt something small and slick and thin wiggle at the tiny slit opening of his cock. A tiny tentacle, he realized, about to urethrally sound him.

Flug’s hips gave an involuntary thrust, for or against he didn’t know because he’d never done this before — Black Hat had never done _this_ before. Sharp claws sunk into the delicate skin of Flug’s hips, and he froze.

“Careful, Doctor Flug. If that stuff eats through your arms, you’re useless to me,” Black Hat warned as the chemical started to slosh again in the glass. Flug gaped when he felt that thin tentacle sink into his piss-hole, and it was shocking and it stung and it was _so good_ as it invaded him. But as much as he wanted to squirm, to drop his hands and stop his boss – or help him – he couldn’t risk it, not when Black Hat was right. If he didn’t fix the chemical reaction, he wouldn’t have hands at all. He wouldn’t have anything.

Despite the threat, Black Hat didn’t let up. He only continued to fondle Flug’s genitals. Sound his dick with that thin tentacle which fucked his urethra shamelessly, and soon Flug felt the familiar way the tentacle slipping between the globes of his cheeks began to move. It shifted tellingly, which had Flug automatically spreading his legs further still, pressing his ass back and ready while trembling to work past the overwhelming physical pleasure to _save his life_.

With half a mind, Flug managed to transfer the toxic red threat into a larger glass container, adding in the right powder to the formula before swirling it with a harsh jerk of his wrist. He slammed the concoction down on the table just in time to see it shift back to the less dangerous yellow. The quick fix wouldn’t last forever. If he didn’t do something soon, it would turn red again, much quicker and with more potency than the first time.

But with the writhing, sucking, clenching, fucking black mass wrapped around his pelvis, all Flug could do was drop his head to the table and whine and moan as he waited for the best part to finally happen. He clenched his gloved hands tight and waited for slick penetration, for a thick tentacle to push itself deep into his body like it had his dick. Waited for Black Hat to take him, to bask in the shameful, heady knowledge that he was letting this demonic horror do this to him. Bully him. Degrade him. Test how much he wanted to live over how much he wanted to be fucked over and over again.

The thick, gooey tentacle circled his puckered hole, pressed lightly against it as if to tease it open. Then it paused.

Flug wanted to scream.

“I’m not paying you to take a break, Doctor.”

The warm, writhing mass pleasuring him loosened and began pulling away, taking with it all the temptation Black Hat had promised. Cool lab air curled around the engorged, sensitive flesh of his cock as that tiny sounding tentacle pulled itself free with a clinical quickness which ached and brought panicked tears to Flug’s eyes.

He moved quickly, hands racing for the chemicals and compounds aligned at his workbench as the liquid started to turn red once more.

“No! No, S-sir! I’m not taking a break!” This wasn’t the first time he’d found himself in this particular scenario with Black Hat, so Flug knew he’d have at least a few precious seconds to react before his boss made his next move. Flug hurried, trying to recall even a sketch of the proper procedure to create the compound Black Hat wanted. More than anything he wanted to botch the batch, nullify it into something harmless, if useless, and simply start at square one all over again. But doing that meant _this_ would happen again.

And even if he didn’t so much mind _this_ , he didn’t want to waste all the time he’d already invested. Flug had learned it was better to push through and complete the task, despite the certainty of death.

Black Hat always found ways to reward him for his efforts.

As the chemicals started to bubble in the flask, those tentacles pressed close again, slipping around and back into every hole they’d invaded as if they’d never left. Flug choked on a yelping groan as the sounding tentacle reinserted itself and his legs shook. Black Hat’s claws curled around his hips again, the only thing keeping Flug up now. The thicker tentacle probed his hole more forcefully, slowly breaching the tight ring of muscles.

“I see,” Black Hat said, his tone smug. One of his claws stroked the delicate flesh of Flug’s hip, then pressed deeper to draw a thin line of blood and cause a tantalizing stinging sensation which almost jarred Flug from the desperate actions of his work. “Apologies, Doctor. You may continue.”

Flug shuddered and tried to keep his mind focused on transferring the mixture into three waiting glass tubes, where he’d add the next agent. Then he would be done with this phase of the process and could take a true, safe break.

But if _any_ of the mixture missed at this critical stage, game over. No more Doctor Flug Slys.

As Black Hat’s tentacle finally sunk into his body, stretching and filling Flug, causing him to moan with ecstasy, he wondered if going out that way would really be so bad?

“Doctor?”

Flug huffed an uneasy breath as the tentacle burrowed deep and made his eyes flutter behind his goggles. Doing his best to ignore it, he carefully tipped the chemical into the first tube, even as the sounding tentacle picked up the pace fucking his dick. Just as he finished transferring it, Black Hat snapped his hips against Flug’s, jerking him and the mixture. But despite the pleasure, the doctor successfully put the first tube into the holder.

Black Hat brushed against his prostate, and Flug almost dropped the flask as he struggled not to explode.

“Good work, Doctor,” his boss said as he gave another forceful thrust. “Are you done yet?”

“T-two more, Sir,” Flug whined as he struggled to save his life.

“Then you should finish.”

He wanted to scream that that was all he wanted to do! To cum or finish his work, he didn’t care so long as his attention wasn’t split and he could focus wholeheartedly on one or the other. But he knew Black Hat liked it this way. Liked to press him. Push him to see if he could succeed while distracted. Watch him flounder.

And pathetic as he was, the greater part of Flug loved it.

So as Black Hat’s tentacles fucked him to higher levels of mindlessness and need, Flug slowly poured the second tube full and was working on the third. He was almost there. Almost done. If he could finish this final one, he could let Black Hat fuck him in peace. He just had to focus.

He just had to _focus_.

“Ah, you’re almost done,” Black Hat said in his ear. “One more.”

Flug couldn’t respond, his attention pushed to its limits. Each milliliter of chemical seemed to take an age making its way safely from one container to the other, and all Flug could see was the shaking of his hand as drop after drop made it safely where it was supposed to go. All he could feel were those tentacles moving inside him, slick and thick and everything he wanted right now. He was close. He was _so_ close with Black Hat hitting his prostate with every thrust. With his dick consumed and invaded by wet heat. His orgasm was coming, and it was going to be intense.

But if he couldn’t _finish this right now_ , he wouldn’t get any orgasmic bliss. He’d get agonizing pain instead, and death.

Sweat lined his back and made his bag stick to his face. His hair was damp and his breath heaved in hot pants which bordered on submissive, pathetic, needy moans with every exhale.

Flug gave a shout of frantic triumph as the last of the chemical slipped into the tube, and he all but dropped it into the holder and the flask on the table before bringing his strained attention entirely to his boss and what he was doing to him. Flug peeked over his shoulder, and Black Hat’s grin was horrible but pleased.

Then the tentacle in his ass thickened and split, opening him up wider, and Flug cried out with pleasure and a hint of pain as both tentacles in his ass and the one in his dick, sped almost violently, pushing the doctor brutally toward ecstasy. Just as he was sure he couldn’t possibly take any more, a clawed hand slipped around his neck beneath his damp bag just as another pair of tentacles wrapped around his wrists, restraining him and pulling them back, rendering him immobile and completely at Black Hat’s mercy.

“I must say, I’m impressed, Doctor.” A hot, wet, unnaturally long tongue slid along the back of Flug’s neck, making him shiver. “Let me show you how impressed I am.”

At that, his hand tightened, the tentacles binding Flug’s body restrained him further, and he felt the scrape of teeth on his shoulder. For the briefest flash, he wondered if _this_ would be the time Black Hat killed him. Not out of anger. Not from a failed experiment or disappointment. But here and now, out of pleasure and deadly interest.

Flug loved it. It was the best high. The _highest_ high he ever experienced, when he was at Black Hat’s mercy like this. He might live. He might die. And it was all up to the demon’s discretion. To his whims, as it always was.

And Flug knew his boss knew it.

Black Hat’s hold on his throat grew tighter. Then he gave a toothy smile.

“Cum.”

Like a well-trained dog, Flug came harder than he ever had in his life, spilling streams of cum across his lab table as the tentacle sounding him jerked out in time to allow it. Shame and embarrassment heated his cheeks as he watched his cum coat his instruments, barely missing the three precious tubes he’d worked so hard over. Ecstasy destroyed his brilliant mind, taken higher as he felt the tentacles within his body thicken to painful intensity before they exploded and filled his hole with a cum-like substance which often felt as if it stayed in him for days and days. Coating his insides. Marking him as Black Hat’s property in the most intimate and disgraceful ways.

Drunk on the pleasure of both physical completion and the certainty of another minute of life, Black Hat released him and withdrew his tentacles. Boneless, Flug slumped to the floor, then toppled over in a limp heap as he choked and gasped for breath. He was spent. Pleasure and the heady relief of survival mixed in his blood and his high was higher than any drug he could ever create. It didn’t matter to him that his cock was still exposed to the air, or that his cum coated his primary work table. His blood buzzed and pulsed under his skin, and he was just so damn happy to be alive.

Above him the demon smirked, clean and proper. One look at Black Hat would be enough to tell anyone he’d been up to something dangerous and wicked, but they’d never guess the shame. Black Hat’s eyes gleamed as he stared down at Flug, and impossibly he felt his cock twitch in response. The scientist in him knew why. Black Hat was filling the air with his aphrodisiac, ensuring Flug’s refractory period vanished to nothing. Prepared him for another round of sex, if the horror desired it.

“Again, I’m impressed, Doctor Flug,” Black Hat crooned smugly. “Your devotion to your discipline astounds me. It truly would be such a shame to lose a genius such as yours.” The demon crouched down, and Flug didn’t know what he wanted Black Hat to do. To leave? To touch him again?

It was starting to become clear what his dick wanted, and the demon dragged his claws lightly over the sensitive flesh. Flug gasped and twitched, scrambling at the ground for purchase even as he kept his legs spread wide. Black Hat twirled a claw up and along the head, then dipped delicately at the slit where his tiny tentacle had probed. Flug shivered and was ready despite the terrible sensitivity still ravaging his genitals. Ready for anything.

“Now, get back to work,” Black Hat said as he spanked Flug’s engorged cock and surged up to tower over him, that dark smile satisfied and pleased. He turned on his heel. “I’ll be checking up on you later for the next batch.”

“The next?” Flug choked, his arms trembling as he pushed himself up.

“Of course,” Black Hat replied with a smirk. “You’d better hurry, Doctor. Who knows when I might show up next?”


End file.
